Well lookie here
The Universe is yelling at me. It is trying to tell me something. It must want me to know that the answer is in the past. Or it is showing me that the last 10 years were not the only years of torment. The torment came so long ago that I didn’t even notice its existence until the Universe shoved it in my face, like fecal matter, not actual poop but more the odor emanated by poop. All day long in my head I have been all, “Which came first, the chicken or the depression?” and laughing to myself.
God damn it, now all I can think about is shit smell. We are off to a delightful start.
In the last 48 hours I have come across every secret scribble I have written since I was 14 years old. That is 28 years of scribbles and thoughts and events and people and feelings, and it is all remarkably consistent. The content not the places where the content was found mind you. That was everywhere, in random note books, one page here in this blue one, 10 in a journal, skip forward a decade and then back a couple of two tree years in this little red book here. I have been packing up the house for some renovations we are getting done and I have been finding these things everywhere. I really feel like past me has hidden messages fo present me, left them all over this brand spanking new life of mine. To complete the picture there is also this of course. I have been writing sporadically at the other place. I downloaded a copy of everything I had written here and saved it. I reclaimed my diary here to hedge my bets and behold the appearance of propcore. I was expecting propland. Propland lo longer exists. I do not remember creating propcore, I do not remember writing any of the past entries, I remember feeling them. If this return of OD had not gone down the way it did I would have never remembered any of this.
It has been really strange to visit all these random days from my past. It has been really strange to realize that there are entire chunks of my life that I have completely erased or heavily edited in my mental hard drive. I am much more aware than I give myself credit for but I am also generous with the soft focus. It is interesting to read about my relationship with booze, read about our young flirtation, our early relationship and courting, the marriage that became monotonous and obligatory and then the horrible and drawn out end.
I finally feel like I can put all of these girls and women together and get a complete picture of who I was and and where I am going and the gratitude to all the lovelessness and adventure and brute force and humour and diligence and unbelievable challenges and sadness and people and the moments of perfect universal messages and echos that have made me the woman I am today.